


It's telling me that I want more

by nea_writes



Series: Since feeling is first [2]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Almost all the Noah are here, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Explicit Language, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Violence, More like Regency
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2018-12-02 21:03:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11517426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nea_writes/pseuds/nea_writes
Summary: Months have passed, and life at court had assembled into something approaching normalcy. Link and Allen still spent every day together, but more often than not, Allen's fiancé was inclined to join.Link pledged his loyalty and bent his knee, fealty bone deep for Crown Prince Allen. By extension, Prince Consort Kanda was parceled some of said devotion — but not very much, if Link could help it.Unfortunately, when the worst comes to pass and life at court is threatened, Link must act beyond what his heart and duty demands and instead on what he knows is right.Even if it means leaving Allen behind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know if I saw this au I would laugh.... but here I am, the one writing it. This is an extremely indulgent piece. I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> That title was a placeholder but... I never found anything I liked so /shrug.

Months had passed since. The seasons had changed, court fell out of session, arose again, quieted once more, and forever reminded Link how grateful he was to not be a part of it. Knighthood granted him an unapologetic glimpse into the reality behind nobility and Link was perfectly fine where he was.

It was summer, blistering and unforgiving, laying on his skin closer than even a lover's seeking touch. Link felt distinctly uncomfortable in his layered uniform, but such was life. He straightened his sleeves and walked into Allen's room, ready to begin the day.

Allen wasn't there.

For one long all-consuming moment, Link's mind flashed to where Allen could possibly be. All of it featured long dark hair, striking blue eyes, arrogant turn to his lips — before Link sternly reminded himself that Mana had requested Allen early today. It wasn't like him to forget such things.

Drawing his hand down his face in the privacy of Allen's rooms, Link staunchly ordered himself to wrap his feelings under control. Ever since Allen's fiancé had stepped into the picture, Link's self-control had begun to slip. It didn't help that Allen never discouraged it. He was eager for any affection, still sneaking kisses from Link as often as possible. Wretched, spoiled, sweet in his smiles, sly in the twist of his hands on Link's skin.

Link's hand lingered on his lips and he scowled, forcibly dropping his hands to his sides and leaving Allen's rooms.

The kingdom was entering a drought, and it showed in the weeping trees, leaves dipping low, in the stiff breeze that blew through open windows, tousling Link's bangs. Sweat collected round his collar, down to the small of his back, gathered on his wrists. An unbearably hot and humid day.

Link skirted the more popular halls, taking back ways to the dining room Mana preferred.

The more time that passed, the more outgoing Mana became. Allen's future had been secured with the promise of a political marriage — still unconsummated, to Link's immense relief — and they were beginning the slow process of handing the kingdom over to Allen. It was a few years off yet, and Neah was still young, but times were becoming troubled, and the recent drought wasn't helping.

It cluttered the mind, cloying, suffocating. Crime was rising and with it the idea of rebellion, and Link could only pray rain would come soon.

Despite the storms brewing in the heart of the kingdom, Mana saw it all as simply Allen's path becoming clearer. Disturbing, in a way.

It was a very lucky fortune that the rest of the family agreed to Allen's status, despite his bastardized history. Neah had no children, Sheryl and Tyki being cousins and Road Sheryl's daughter. The rest of the family descended from various cousins and uncles, but none held as straight a heritage as Allen, who was still Mana’s first and only son. Neah's own unwavering support helped in this endeavor.

It was perhaps only because of Neah's endorsement that Allen's claim to the throne remain unrivaled. Sheryl held a greedy glint in his eyes, and he lamented to this day that Road would have made a beautiful queen.

 _Over my dead body,_ Link thought viciously, and abruptly cut it off. It would certainly _be_ over his dead body if they wanted their way.

Overall, life was more or less pleasant within the castle itself — citizen riots not withstanding — and Mana, feeling secure, was beginning to venture further and further from the castle, warranting Allen's own insecurity. These days, they spent as much time out of the castle as in, which Wisely mused did Allen and Mana more good than it seemed.

It tickled an old thought Link resolutely never focused on. Allen's life, before he had returned, surely had been completely different. Link had spent years at Allen's side, but he still did not know the particulars of that time.

Outside one of many informal dining rooms, a maid informed Link that Mana and Allen were currently enjoying a breakfast, along with their _magnanimous_ king, and though no one had been barred from entering, she advised Link still wait aside. Link cut her a sharp look for the jab at Neah, and appropriately abashed, she stepped back.

There were still very few people Mana took breakfast with. Even Allen's fiancé was not spared the prejudice. It left Link a little smug, knowing that he wasn’t the only one excluded. Not that the prince consort seemed to care. Rather, he was never around in the mornings, though Link knew better than to assume laziness.

A glance at his pocket watch informed him breakfast would likely be over soon, and so Link simply stood aside to wait, thinking carefully of nothing at all but the heat, wishing he could strip himself of a few layers.

The haze consumed him and time passed meaninglessly until Allen emerged, face brightening where they landed on Link. It had been years, but the simple affection Allen held in every action still suffused Link with warmth and, when coupled with the pressing summer heat, became suddenly overwhelming. Link looked down to his shoes, respectfully bowing towards them.

Mana regarded Link fondly, in the way that Link was personally in charge of Allen’s safety. Link held no delusions that should anything happen to the royal heir, Link’s head would not only be ceremoniously loped off but also done painfully so. The incident that had weakened Mana’s mind had not harmed the vindictive taste he held.

“Link,” Mana said, and Link looked up at the address. “Allen and his fiancé will be venturing into town to explore the area some. Do keep a careful eye on them both.”

Which was to say, the prince consort’s life was now directly in Link’s hands. He carefully hid his initial reaction, instead dipping his head forward in acquiescence once more. “Of course.”

“Good. Now Allen, my dear, don’t you wander off. No matter how tempted you may be.”

Allen scowled, batting away Mana’s hands from his hair. “I’m not seven anymore, Mana. Don’t worry so much.”

“Oh, I always will with you,” Mana said with a smile.

“Quiet, you,” Neah snapped, crossing his arms. “Time has made you horribly worse.”

“And you increasingly impatient,” Mana said, amused.

Neah scoffed in turn, tossing his head aside. Still, he was not distracted when he pierced Link with a sharp eye. “Keep a careful watch on him — he _will_ slip away if he wants to, if just to get away from his fiancé.”

“Neah!” Allen hissed, mortified. Neah laughed and reached over to tousle Allen’s hair.

Link carefully focused on his shoes, not embarrassed by the blatant affection but awed. Link had never quite known a father nor a mother’s touch, orphaned young and enrolled into knighthood abruptly. It left something to be envied in Allen’s smiles and Mana’s eyes, in Neah’s careful hold over them both.

“Now, off you go. Go find him. And try to not argue so much — you two leave my ears ringing from halfway across the castle.”

Allen ducked his head, blushing not from being so vehement in his anger but that Mana scolded him for it. “I’ll try.”

“And that’s all I’ll ever ask from you,” Mana said, now _really_ embarrassing both Link and Allen. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

Allen embraced Mana and Neah both tightly in turn, and then waved good-bye as they left. Neah always walked slightly favoring Mana, as if at any moment Mana might collapse, though Mana was robust in healthy and almost appalling in how energetic he was.

Allen watched them go and when they turned the corner finally faced Link, eyes glittering. “Well, I certainly missed seeing you first thing this morning.”

Perhaps it was because Link _had_ missed Allen, despite seeing him sun up to sun down, or maybe it was he knew the coming afternoon would feature him following at a discreet distance, watching the long fall of dark hair brush Allen’s shoulder, his arm, see Allen’s smile when the prince consort said something particularly witty. Whatever the cause, Link’s words came out painfully raw. “My mornings never seem right when I don’t see you.”

Allen pulled up short, and to Link’s simultaneous pleasure, pride, and concern over being spotted, blushed a truly marvelous shade of red.

Allen covered his mouth with a darkly tanned glove, eyes startling bright against his flushed cheeks. Then he laughed, cheekily and shyly and adorably all at once. “Perhaps I should skip out more often, then, if I get this kind of treatment afterwards.”

Link scowled, encouraging Allen to walk at a slow pace down the hall. “If you had not said anything, you would have gotten away with it.”

“Maybe that’s why I did,” Allen mused, because it was in his blood to charm others, no matter how he did it. “I do need to learn a certain amount of self-restraint around you, especially in this infernal heat.”

Link’s brow furrowed, curious as to what the weather had to do with anything, but Allen sighed abruptly, crossing his arms and settling into his weight confidently. “Did you hear Mana? I have to spend an entire day with him!”

Link checked his smile, knowing he truly shouldn’t be so pleased Allen found his fiancé insufferable. “Is there a reason?” Surely Mana wouldn’t send the _prince consort from another kingdom_ out and about with only Link as a guard?

“No,” Allen snorted. “It really is just to show the ass around.”

Link pinned Allen with a look and Allen rolled his eyes. “What? He’s not around, and even if he was I still call him as I please. A horrible arrogant conniving idiotic _stupid—”_

Link really was amused now, brushing Allen’s shoulder to cut the tirade off. “Yes, yes, I know perfectly well what you think of him. Though I might advise you keep such words to the confines of your bedroom.”

“Oh yeah?” Allen asked, glancing at him wickedly, hand snaking up to grab Link’s quickly. In one deft movement Allen removed his glove, sneaking to wrap his fingers around Link’s wrist. Link glanced around, closing his eyes in exasperation when he found the entire corridor empty. Of course Allen would know better. “Will you scold me there too?”

Allen wanted some things in the bedroom that truly left Link’s blood racing, but now was _definitely_ not the time. “I’ll do no such thing if you keep forcing us behind schedule.”

Allen’s fingers traced patterns on the underside of his wrist, nails scraping lightly in promise. “Mmm, a schedule isn’t meant to be followed.”

The slight tug at his skin sent electricity racing up his arms, and despite it all Link was so very much in love with it. That every movement, every glance, left his blood singing in his ears, still. “You are severely mistaken.”

Allen laughed at that, finally withdrawing his hand and moving forward. Link flexed his fingers, realizing Allen had confiscated his glove in the process.

“Really,” Allen continued, as if Link was not demanding his glove back with his outstretched hand. “The only good thing about him was the company he kept, and they’re only around in the off-season.”

Which was to say, Lenalee and Lavi were definitely Allen’s friends now. They came only in winter, duty-bound by their noble status to remain in their own court in the summer seasons.

Allen stopped short suddenly, startling Link.

“Where are we going anyways?”

Link sighed, exasperated.

 

* * *

 

Allen gasped and leaned back on his arms, hands grasping the duvet of his bed, chest heaving and as flushed as his face. “God, Link, I _really_ need to skip mornings more often.”

“Absolutely not,” Link said, coughing to clear his throat. Grimacing at the taste he straightened on his knees, reaching for his handkerchief to wipe at his mouth. Before he could Allen drew him up higher, until his back arched, bending down to kiss him messily. Link relented, savoring the kiss, which would surely be the last for the day. Allen’s tongue in his mouth was surely tasting himself — filthy and transgressive. His wild heart beating had gotten all sorted out a few moments ago, and it thudded slowly, sweetly, deeply in his ears, in his fingertips where he cradled Allen’s face.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against Allen’s. “Enough,” he whispered hoarsely, resisting the urge to clear his throat again. “I really ought to make allowances for these times.”

Allen laughed breathlessly, still unwinding. “Penciling this in seems a little crass,” he said, and Link considered it, agreeing.

“Yes, well, with as frequently as you derail the day’s events, I ought to at least keep it in mind.”

Allen flopped down on the bed, still obscenely exposed, and Link clicked his tongue. He fixed his own clothes before moving over to Allen’s, pressing a lingering kiss to his navel after doing up his pants and before finishing his shirt. That still left Allen barefoot, where Link had been attempting to place his boots when Allen had decided there were more savory things Link could do from that position.

Link licked his lips, pursing them and glancing at the ready water pitcher off to the side. Link would’ve liked to rinse his mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to touch the water meant for Allen.

Allen’s breath was slowly settling, arms stretched out on either side and red staining high on his cheekbones, hair curling and sticking to his sweat.

“Link,” Allen said, breathy and begging. “Can’t we stay a little longer?”

“No,” Link said, voice strained. He grabbed the abandoned shoes and Allen’s feet, the touch on skin telling him he’d forgotten the socks. He hoped this useless foggy feeling in his head didn’t last much longer. He reached for the prepared socks and slowly slid them on Allen’s feet, reaching under his pants until they stopped mid-calf.

He was finally getting to the boots when Allen lifted his foot, resting it on Link’s shoulder. Link looked up and found Allen propped on his elbows, less flushed now but definitely still pink. He looked contemplative, and the tip of his foot traced Link’s shoulder, his collarbone, resting on his sternum and pressing harder, so that Link straightened his back.

“...Yes?”

“Nothing,” Allen said, in a tone implying there was plenty. “Just thinking.”

Link went back to his work, grabbing Allen’s foot, hand curving under the arch almost possessively. He went about lacing Allen’s boots up, setting each one down reverently. The entire time Allen watched him, and when he finished Allen slid forward and off the bed, coming to kneel in front of Link.

Instantly Link sat back on his heels, lowering himself as much as possible. Allen noticed, but all he did was cup Link’s face and kiss him, sensuous and deep, wholly.

Link didn’t know what he’d done to warrant it, but he accepted it.

Lost in a fog, Link still had enough presence of mind to pull back eventually. “Allen,” he said, helplessly, closing his eyes when Allen kissed him again. “We really,” another peck, “should get—” a kiss on his cheek, “going, you know how,” a full kiss, cutting off his words, “—he is when we’re late.”

“Mmm,” Allen said against his lips, then sighed, leaning back. “I know. Let’s get this over with then, hm?”

Link stood first and grasped Allen’s hands with both of his, pulling him up. Allen went easily, resting against Link and wrapping his arms around Link’s neck — another long lasting kiss, loving, impassioned but lingering.

When Allen pulled away he rubbed at his own lip thoughtfully. “As much as I love how you look, you might want to wash your face before we go. It… shows.”

Link sighed, exasperated.

 

* * *

 

“You are an _hour_ late.”

“I sincerely apologize,” Allen said, wearing such a fake smile it almost made Link laugh. Instead he rearranged his face into one as neutral as possible.

“Horse shit.”

Allen’s fiancé, his prince consort, his promised companion for life: Kanda. He crossed his arms and looked down his nose at them, face a perfect study in contempt. Everything about Kanda screamed contempt, in the sharp cut of his eyes, the careless fall of his hair, the arrogant set to his shoulders.

“Let’s get this over with,” Kanda snapped, turning on his heels as if fire licked at them. Link thought Allen’s answering smirk was probably due to similar sentiments. As he always was, Link followed them, resolutely silent.

“Aren’t you supposed to be enjoying the beauty of our capital?” Allen asked, goading Kanda.

Kanda side-eyed him, blue eyed and fierce. More so than Allen, Kanda _stood out._ The royal family were mostly deeply tanned with hair burnt black, but Kanda? Kanda was rich in color, hair like ink and eyes the color of the sky. Beside Allen, it was as if they were begging to be noticed and, being royalty, bombarded.

It generally just made Link’s job harder.

“Nothing is enjoyable beside you,” Kanda said, turning away from Allen as they descended marble steps, gleaming white in the blistering sun. It was, quite possibly, the hottest day of the summer season.

Waiting at the bottom was a horse-drawn carriage, black steeds pawing at the ground in irritation. Their coats gleamed, sable and carefully groomed, and Allen broke off to soothe a hand down one of their sides, smiling at the driver.

The driver bowed, and the footman scurried to open the door, bowing as Kanda approached, head held high.

Allen rounded to face the horses, rubbing their noses each and whispering softly. One horse shook his head and the other dipped it, and Allen grinned, a flash of teeth.

Link stood beside the footman, and when Allen passed him Link scowled at the hand Allen pressed sensually against his thigh, glaring at the footman who remained wholly focused on assisting Allen into the carriage. Link followed after him, sitting beside Allen and across from Kanda, who stuck his chin out and glared at the small window beside him.

The door closed, sucking the air from inside and immediately covering them in a stifling heat. Allen reached across Link for their window, wrenching it open and doing the same for Kanda’s. Kanda jerked back and Allen rolled his eyes, sitting beside Link and almost slouching.

The carriage started and the horses neighed, and then they were going. Link sat stiffly, staring outside and ears keen.

“Well,” Allen said, breaking the silence. “Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to go?”

“No,” Kanda said, scowl deepening.

“...Nowhere at all?”

_“Nowhere.”_

“Fine then.”

“Fine.”

“Difficult ass.”

“Naive idiotic git.”

“Fuck you.”

_“Fuck you!”_

Link nudged Allen with his thigh, still staring outside but quite frankly done with the both them.

Allen’s mouth audibly snapped shut, and Kanda huffed, crossing his arms.

The carriage continued in silence.

“...maybe we should stop somewhere to eat first. I worked up quite an appetite.”

Link’s saliva caught in his throat and he grew red with the effort of restraining his impulse to choke on it. His ears burned, knowing _exactly_ what Allen was referring to.

Unfortunately, Kanda did not. “What do you _mean_ you worked up an appetite? What the fuck were you doing that took so long?”

“I didn’t know you cared to keep after me, _Kanda,”_ Allen said, voice saccharine.

“I don’t _give_ a shit but it sure is aggravating as all hell when you keep me waiting for an hour doing God knows what!”

“I was asking if you wanted to go somewhere to eat!”

 _“I said_ I don’t give a shit!”

“I’m not even talking about that anymore, I wanted to know if you wanted to _eat you stupid—”_

Link muffled a quiet sigh.

 

* * *

 

Eventually, they decided to eat, and Link was only grateful Allen didn’t debate where to go as well. There were very few locations they could reasonably dine in, and Link informed the footman through the sliding rear window to stop at their usual fare.

The carriage rumbled to a halt and Link helped Allen down and out, Kanda dismissing not only his hand but also the footman’s when offered. He glided out, stirring a brisk air, as if not even the summer heat could affect him.

Inside, the hotel was refreshingly cool and large, floor tiled in ever increasing circles that reflected liquid light onto the ceiling. Allen sighed in relief and Link went ahead to inform the proprietor of their requested meals.

The ‘inn’ was an understatement. It was a large grand hotel that hosted visiting dignitaries and lavish ballrooms for the populace. There was a reserved floor for royalty to rest in at the top, and that was where they headed, maids moving ahead to open windows for a refreshing breeze.

A balcony spanned the length of the room, floor-to-ceiling doors wide open so that the large foliage outside rustled invitingly, just shy of touching the banister. Where Kanda immediately sat at the lounge to the left, Allen veered towards the veranda, hand tracing around the columns set at regular intervals between the doors.

Link followed him dutifully when a glance at Kanda assured him he wanted for nothing. While Link didn’t necessarily have to cater to Kanda, it would be remiss of him if he let something as petty as his feelings prevent him from properly caring for Allen’s fiancé.

The wind was strong enough to tease Allen’s hair, lifting invitingly off his neck. Looking back, Link found most servants dallying in the room, setting trays and pitches of water and wine down for them to enjoy, and of course, as always, Kanda was there, unobtrusive but horribly present.

Link drifted closer under the pretense of surveying the garden below, which he naturally did. Before his feelings was his duty, after all. There was only one patron out in the gardens, the summer sun being so unbearably hot that most had taken to reclining inside. As Link watched, the young woman looked up, locked eyes with Allen, and smiled, a crinkled-eyed thing that felt largely genuine. Allen grinned back, waving with one hand.

“I don’t think she recognizes you,” Link said, watching her wave back before tilting her head suddenly down, as if her name had been called. She waved at them once more before making her way from the winding paths of the garden, disappearing from view under the balcony. “She was awfully blasé.”

“In a way,” Allen said, crossing his arms along the balcony to lean on them, back bent almost level as he idly watched flowers bend under the breeze, “I prefer it. It’s much more personal.”

“And dangerous,” Link added, cautious as ever.

Allen laughed breezily, waving Link away with one hand. “Naturally, but most gifts in life come with a price. I rather think a smile is quite worth most things.”

 _Naive,_ Kanda’s voice said, insidiously loud in Link’s mind. _Idealistic and romantic._

Kanda had an endless litany to lecture on Allen’s faults and strove to fight with Allen as much as possible in an attempt to correct them. What galled Link and what he resolved to never mention or even reveal was that he quite agreed with Kanda on a number things.

Even now, with Allen’s cheerful interaction with a girl who could’ve been dangerous beneath her cheery grin, Link held his tongue more than he spoke, even though he knew Allen should be more careful.

It wasn’t his place to scold royalty.

However, it _was_ Kanda’s, a position he fulfilled with malevolent glee.

Right on cue, Kanda approached, his footsteps encouraging a tired sigh from Allen. Link turned first, meeting icy eyes that passed over him carelessly, locking on Allen’s so single-mindedly that Link’s heart stuttered, stomach dropping to his feet.

“It’s time to eat,” Kanda said. “Enough fooling around, with the sheer amount you stuff down your mouth there’s no time to look at scenery.”

“Smelling roses, Kanda,” Allen said tiredly. “Have you tried it?”

“They smell like shit,” Kanda snapped, evidently irritated by Allen’s seemingly lackadaisical response.

“It’s an expression,” Link intervened, cutting off an incoming argument. “To stop and appreciate the day.”

“I’m not fucking stupid,” Kanda said, staring at Link in disdain. “Just didn’t figure someone with his head so far up the clouds could ever retain basic literary knowledge.”

“It’s too hot,” Allen announced suddenly, walking past Link and Kanda and into the empty room, the maids’ duties done, “to be arguing, and I’m too hungry, and very sleepy. Let’s just get this over with.”

Despite the general consensus that it was unbearably hot, the thought of closing the windows and thereby cutting off the circulation the breezes generated was even worse. It left Link on edge as he sat to Allen’s left and across from Kanda, eyes locked on the balcony. Surely it’d be much more difficult to slip into a hotel such as this while looking suspicious, but Link was still wary.

“—there’s a nice market down the way, it has some fruits shipped in from your home,” Allen said, mouth wet with juice, shiny. Link licked his lips and glanced down to his place, pursing his them when Allen carelessly wiped the mess away with the thumb of his pristine glove. Link could almost _feel_ Kanda’s scowl. “Would you like some?”

“I don’t care,” Kanda said, less irritated with Allen’s suggestion and more likely appalled by his manners. “You never fucking learn to wipe your mouth right.”

“I wasn’t aware there were particular semantics in how to do it,” Allen said, smiling politely, thinly.

“Even a goddamn kid knows not to wipe his mouth with his hands,” Kanda grit out, stabbing his food with his fork. He stopped, staring at his plate. “I just lost my damn appetite.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Allen said, grin so broad Link could hear it in his voice and feel the way Allen directed his words at him. Looking up, Link found Allen’s quick-silver gaze on his, glittering and sharp. “I think I could go for a second round.”

Link’s blush was almost comically dark where it burned at his nape and ears, and when he jerked his gaze at Kanda he stiffened under the scorching glare Kanda had.

“You think,” Kanda began, slowly, insidiously, “you two are so fucking _slick.”_

 _Oh,_ Link thought, heart in his throat, _no._

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Allen said primly, pleased now that he’d upset Kanda and embarrassed Link. He popped another fruit in his mouth, tearing through the skin. “You really should try this, it’s absolutely delicious.”

He plucked a small round green fruit and held it out for Kanda to take, smiling pleasantly all the while. “Here.”

Kanda stared incredulously back.

Quicker than Link could follow, Kanda backhanded the fruit from Allen’s hand and surged forward, grabbing Allen by the collar and pulling him up. Allen grinned, vicious and alive and enthralled, _excited._

Their chairs fell back, followed by Link’s as he stood, jerking at Kanda’s wrist with a vice-like grip.

“Enough!” Link snapped.

Unfortunately, between the noise and talk and rising tensions, Link had gotten unfairly distracted.

The arrow whistled through the air sharply, arresting his attention a second too late as it landed in his chest and knocked his shoulder back, wrenching a pained gasp from him as he stumbled backwards.

_“Link!”_

Before he could even lock his gaze on the veranda Link gasped, “Go! Get out of here, _go!”_

There, hiding in the thick foliage of the trees, was a darkly shadowed figure, crouching low on a branch as he knocked another arrow. Movement in his peripherals stole Link’s gaze and there was another figure in black, wrapping arms around Kanda’s throat and choking his breath.

_“Kanda!”_

“Allen!” Link cried, finally gaining his bearings. He broke the arrow in half, leaving the head lodged, and stumbled towards him.

Like always, Allen never listened.

He ran at Kanda’s attacker, wrestling with him all the while shouting, anger and fear inflecting his voice with a powerful quality that would surely alert the maids down the hall. Link’s steps faltered, the world tilting sideways and he stumbled against the table, shoving food and silverware alike off to clatter messily on the floor, the noise ringing in his ears.

He tried to push himself upright with the edge, but his grip slipped and he fell with a harsh thud on the ground, landing on his wounded arm and groaning. He attempted to roll onto his back but his eyes slid shut, sound hazy, distorted, distant.

The last he heard before passing out was a sharp crack and a muted thud.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what inspired the sudden motivation for this, but I finally really started and finished this off. Enjoy!

_It’s my fault._

No one would say it. Hell, Allen was willing to bet his claim to the throne that no one even _thought_ it. Logically, Allen knew there was nothing he could’ve done.

Fending two off on his own while another two dragged Kanda and Link away, desperately yelling for Link to wake up, for them to let go of Kanda, at their attackers, anger and hatred rising, blackness in his heart as he swore that they’d pay.

Link, limp and bleeding, eyes closed and his features twisted in pain even in sleep. Kanda, lax as they knocked him unconscious, the long fall of his hair as the bastard swept him up.

_I’ll get you back. I swear._

_‘Thank God,’_ Mana had said, holding Allen close as Neah seethed over them, eyes like brimstone. _‘I’m so glad you’re safe.’_

Neah had remorselessly ordered the slaughter of everyone present at the hotel, and it was only Allen’s pleas and Tyki’s offhand comments that killing everyone before you investigated them was more harm than worth that stayed Neah’s hand.

It was two in the morning now, and Allen was sitting at Neah’s side, watching blankly as he stood pouring over a map with Sheryl and Wisely. There were servants buzzing all around the edges, exhaustion writ across their features, but too restless to keep away. As opposed to the typical architecture their castle held, the ceiling was short, though the windows still spanned the entire height of their walls. Despite being the room meant for strategizing and holding meetings, it was still decorated lavishly, enough to suit Sheryl’s tastes. Fire flicked from torches on the walls and from candles placed all about, and despite the humid night air and the summer heat lingering, Allen still felt chilled.

Tyki sat across the table, fingers carelessly holding a cigarette to his lips in a manner that wrinkled Sheryl’s nose. He always pestered Tyki to use a pipe instead of smoking in the disgusting manner commoners did, but Tyki always grinned, a flash of white teeth through all the smoke, and insisted it tasted better this way.

Bullshit, since tobacco was acrid on the tongue, but Allen knew full-well the warmth a cigarette carried, and he was craving it, cold without Link at his side.

The table was narrow enough that Allen could easily reach across, thieving the cigarette from Tyki’s fingers. Ignoring Sheryl’s immediate vehement response and Tyki’s delighted grin, Allen carefully placed it between his lips, pulling, inhaling, closing his eyes as the warmth wrapped around his lungs, comforting like the humid summer nights.

This infernal heat, sending his blood rushing, reminding him of Link, of the first time they’d met, the first time they kissed, of the first night together. He exhaled, dizzy from how long he’d held it. Mana hated the habit and Neah turned his nose up at it, but Mana was sleeping now and Neah didn’t care enough to scold him for it.

“Oh?” Tyki hummed, feral in his smiles. “You could’ve asked.”

“Mm,” Allen said around another pull. Flickering his eyes open as he exhaled, he gifted Tyki with a black-hearted smile. “Too much effort.”

“Enough,” Neah snapped, vividly reminding Allen of how often he and Kanda exasperated Link. “Sheryl, do me the favor and stop your damned brother from infecting Allen with his horrible habits. He has one too many as it is,” Neah said, glancing down at Allen from the corner of his eyes.

Was it the lying? The petty thievery Allen was still prone to? Or was Neah playing coy, skirting around his scandalous relationship with Link?

Or maybe it was just the smoking.

“Come now,” Allen said, grinning. He leaned forward, placing one elbow on the table to cup his cheek as he gestured with the other hand for Tyki to share his ash tray. “You can’t expect to keep Tyki from being himself. Don’t ask Sheryl to do the impossible.”

“You two,” Sheryl growled, tapping his fingers in agitation against the table top, “shave years off my life.”

Both Tyki and Wisely muttered something suspiciously like _thank God,_ but no one pressed them on it. Tyki thumbed free another cigarette and Wisely cleared his throat.

“Unfortunately,” Wisely began, much in the manner of saying _stupidly,_ “Allen wasn’t able to identify these bastards. We can’t dally. The guard is no matter, but they took the _prince consort._ If we don’t retrieve him as quickly as possible, we risk a war.”

Neah groaned, sitting in his chair and dropping his head on the back of it. “Even if we do find him, I don’t doubt those trigger-happy bastards won’t start a war anyways. Marrying Allen to that asshole was the whole point of it!”

“We’d win anyways,” Sheryl sniffed, thumbing through a set of documents. “I don’t see why you dread the idea so much.”

“Dear brother, not all of us are so blood-thirsty,” Tyki said, a hint of mirth around his words.

“Coming from you, that’s not reassuring at all,” Wisely muttered, the only one at the table aside from Allen who grimaced at the mention of blood. “We don’t need to stoop to their barbaric level.”

“Barbaric,” Neah repeated, and Allen could see the beginnings of a wry grin. “That prince, he’s got a temper, but he had his head on right on his shoulders. He did his duty well, despite how much he and Allen clashed.”

Allen scoffed, flicking out the ashes. “He wasn’t bad,” Allen allowed, “but he was one goddamn frustrating asshole. Still,” Allen said, voice drifting off as he glanced out the windows. The inner courtyard was quiet aside from the hum of crickets. “He doesn’t deserve this.”

“Debatable,” Sheryl said, lips thin. Sheryl had always been against the marriage, instead pushing for Road to marry Allen. Allen had never quite heard the reason why Neah continuously rejected it, but he had the suspicion that it might have to do with delegitimizing Allen’s claim to the throne. If Road was queen, the loyalty between Allen and the rest of the Noah might be split.

After all, Allen was still a bastard.

Neah sighed, massaged his temples, and leaned forward, resolute. “We _will_ find him, I don’t care at what cost. Burn the entire damn building, scour every home. The window of opportunity is shrinking fast, and the longer we take, the further they get. At this time, they can’t have possibly cleared the country yet, but if we wait another day, they’ll be able to reach the south quick enough.” The south, where they can head into the ocean.

“Send a messenger,” Wisely said, stumbling over his tongue as his thoughts crowded his head. Wisely was a brilliant strategist and advisor because of how varied his perspective was. The downside to this was that his mind raced too face for his mouth to keep up, let alone his audience. “No, a bird. A carrier. To keeps in the north, south, and west. Not too much to worry with the west given the mountains, but the east and the south are the problem. If they make it to the ocean, we’re fucked.”

Grimly, they considered the map on the table.

“Tyki,” Sheryl ordered, tracing the coastline with his fingers. “You go the ports. Disgusting as it is, you’ve a rapport with the commoners, and you… enjoy degrading yourself with their clothing and ways. There’s too many foreigners there, and if we send a delegation, they might not react as well. Go, and see what you can find.”

“Right,” Tyki said, surprisingly willing to follow an order. He shot a look towards Allen, brows knit together, and Allen wondered exactly how awful he looked to inspire such sympathy from Tyki Mikk of all people.

“Look—” Wisely winced, glancing at Neah before hurriedly focusing on the map again. He pointed out three cities, all major ports. “Here first. This was too organized to be spur of the moment or by the rebels in the cities. This… this is a full-scale attack on us. We might,” Wisely hesitated again, refusing to look at Neah, “we might be on the brink of a civil war.”

“Civil war?” Allen asked, aghast. He shot forward in his seat, finally wrenched from his own self-loathing. “Is it that bad?”

“Unfortunately,” Neah hissed, glaring at the map as if it was personally responsible. “The drought’s gone on too long, not to mention some still aren’t happy about our tentative alliance with the Order. A lot of them still remember the war.” Neah gave Allen a fond look. “You were too young to remember, but when Mana disappeared, there were too many suspicions on the kingdom to the north. Too many reasons they might have for stealing a prince and our king, injured as he was. Do you remember?”

Allen nodded, stunned. “Mana was staying at the villa there,” Allen murmured, passing his fingers over the tiny image of a castle on the map, close to the border. “So he could recover. You took over as regent until he was well enough to return. I went with Mana because, because…” Allen’s brow knit, struggling to remember the events of an era no one would tell him about. “Because of my mother. She… she was from there, originally.”

“Yes,” Neah said, voice sour. Allen blinked at that, wondering what it was exactly that had set off Neah’s ire. “Your mother was killed and my brother, gone along with you. Right at the border of a kingdom whom we were less than friendly with. We’d already had a few skirmishes at the time, but the villa was far enough that we thought you all safe… we still don’t know what happened. The entire night was lost. Mana can’t remember, you were too young, your mother dead, and half the castle killed. Those left scattered in fear.” Neah laughed, humorless. “They rightfully thought I’d slaughter them all for what happened to you and Mana.”

 _Me and Mana,_ Allen thought dizzily, _but not my mother._

“From what we can piece together, someone attacked the castle and Mana, still recovering from his injury, thought the best route was too escape with you. We think he was hurt again somehow in the escape, because his state was, from what the last report we received told us and from when we found him, was much worse. From there, you know the rest.”

“Mana and I traveled,” Allen whispered, sketching their imaginary route from the North keep. Mana, running from a castle engulfed with flames in the dead of a winter night, bearing the burden of a child on his shoulder and a heart heavy with grief for a wife he left behind. Or had Mana forgotten already? This was the most Allen had ever heard of his mother. “From town to town, always running. I guess he feared those who had attacked the castle were still after us…”

A birthday celebrated a year later, on the day they’d escaped.

He smiled, fingers stopping on the town they’d eventually found them at.

“While this is sweet and heart-warming and all,” Tyki said, loud in the somber silence, “the point is, most of the people still believe the Order were behind the attack on Mana and you, which we believed then too, hence the entire fucking war. Too many people on our side died, and there’s too much anger. Should’ve known this was a possibility,” he tacked on bitterly.

Sheryl, uncharacteristically quiet, merely sorted out reports. Allen wondered how much love was lost between his family and his mother, the ghost of a woman he didn’t remember.

“Right,” Neah said, clapping his hands sharply once, twice. “Tyki, to the ports. Don’t fuck around. Allen, I’m sending you the North. Wisely and Sheryl, stay with me. Send Lulubell to the capital. And Allen? Take the Thirds with you. I won’t have you in danger again.”

Allen smiled, fake and empty, and he finally pulled the last of what his cigarette held. “Right.”

“Good,” Neah said, but all Allen could hear was the dark rage still seething beneath. Neah was out for blood, and _someone_ was going to bleed.

Allen exhaled and felt pity for those who’d wronged them, because Allen wasn’t inclined to disagree.

* * *

 Link woke with a groan, pain dulled and mind unpleasantly fuzzy. He lingered in the dizzying sensation, wondering what had afflicted him so.

Time passed slowly, but the longer he was awake the more he registered his surroundings. He was lying on cold unyielding floor, most likely stone, and the air felt damp, a sensation he hadn’t experienced since the start of summer. Wood creaked overhead and he heard something like wind, along with muffled talking, too low to understand.

It wasn’t until he attempted to shift off his back and onto his side that he rattled the chains binding him, wrists tugging at the short leash of metal. Eyes slamming open, Link sat up too quickly, jerking his hand to hold his forehead when he grew dizzy only to stop short as the length jerked his hand back. The movement wrenched at his shoulder and he bit down on a groan as the pain of a wound he’d forgotten flared to life

“W-what?” Link slurred, head pitching sideways as sleep threatened to suddenly overtake him again, scrambling to right himself somehow.

He heard a shuffle to his left and a muttered, “Finally.”

Blinking until the floor finally settled, Link slowly turned to look and found Kanda bound in chains, hands and feet clamped tight with iron manacles as he rested against the wall. His high collar tunic was ripped along his neck and at his side, and through the tatters Link could see a hint of bloody bandages. Aside from the general disarray of his hair — down, Link had never seen it so carelessly let loose before — and a swelling in the corner of his lips, Kanda looked, for the most part, whole.

Link shuffled onto his knees immediately, squeezing his eyes as the dizziness refused to abate. His mouth was dry, too, but there was nothing in the room except for them. Pressing his hands flat on the filthy ground, Link attempted to find focus. His head felt incredibly foggy and he was having difficulties sorting through what had happened.

Blessedly, Kanda remained quiet, and aside from a clanking of his chains as he shifted the room was otherwise quiet.

Quiet?

Blinking rapidly Link jerked wide eyes to the floorboards over him, realizing with horror that there were _people_ up there, people who could help, who could inform his majesty of—

No, no, there was no guarantee they would help. In fact, it was more likely that the people overhead were their captors.

They were gone now anyways, and Link bitterly wished he’d woken sooner. He could’ve listened to their conversation, or gleaned more information about any possible routine they’d settle. Maybe deduced their accent, possible affiliation, the _motive_ for capturing the prince of a neighboring country.

Oh. Oh shit.

Link looked at Kanda at last, fully registering what his appearance meant.

_What a failure._

Link bit down the fast-rising hatred, struggling to contain the thoughts that were finally in working order. He was remembering now what had happened. They’d shot him and, very quickly after, he’d lost agency and then consciousness. Poison? Fast-acting, but it must compensate in how long it stayed in his system. Given that he was currently alive, it wasn’t very strong either. Why hadn’t they shot to kill? Maybe it was fear of accidentally striking one of the princes.

If so, and given that Kanda was still alive and more or less whole, than it meant he was captured as a hostage. They _wanted_ something, if Kanda was being held as bargaining chip.

But why was Link still alive?

Link exhaled, inhaled, frowned, and at last gathered himself together. This was unseemly. No matter his feelings for Kanda, he was still a prince, and worse, _Allen’s_ fiance. This was no time to be floundering.

He’d protect Kanda, just as he would Allen.

On his last exhale, he shed the tension in his shoulders and shifted to properly kneel, one leg bent, the other on the ground, a fist on the floor and a palm on his uplifted knee, taking care not to disturb his injured shoulder. Bowing his head, Link said, “I’m happy to see you alive, your highness.”

Kanda scoffed, and Link could hear the muted swish of his hair as he tossed his head to the side. “Alive? Barely. Your master fought harder than you did.”

Shame licked at Link’s cheeks and he bowed his head further. “Was the prince also captured?” He asked, in lieu of a useless apology.

“...I don’t think so,” Kanda muttered, shifting again. “He wasn’t in the carriage that brought us here, and I haven’t heard him since.”

Not enough to positively say that Allen was safe, but enough to alight hope. Licking his lips, Link tried to remember the last time he’d seen Allen. Grinning, vivacious, teasing, stirring up a fight — all things that affected Link and Kanda too, perhaps.

He never was sure about the prince consort’s feelings.

Shaking his head, Link dismissed the wayward thoughts. “What of our captors? Have they said anything?”

“No,” Kanda said, short. “They gagged and blindfolded me when they brought us here. All I know is that it’s quiet outside. We’re not close to anything.”

The countryside? Or, worse, the home of a noble, intent on righting the wrong they saw in Allen’s marriage?

Link was well-aware of the discord amongst the nobles and commoners, who held more hate for the Order than the royal family did. Afterall, once they found Mana and Allen, Neah had lost all anger. What he had treasured most had returned. But most citizens had lost loved ones in a senseless war, and not enough time had passed to forget.

In fact, it had barely been a decade. Allen’s engagement was meant to finally turn talks towards peace and alliance.

Link gauged the length of his chains and the distance between himself and Kanda. He was only a few feet away, and the chains were more than long enough for Link to get close, but he elected to shift closer to the wall, facing Kanda as he sat cross-legged.

The movement jolted his shoulder wound some, and ignoring Kanda’s curious gaze, Link pulled at his collar, staring at the bandages there.

They’d shot and wounded him, and, if the care taken was any indication, didn’t want Link dead.

Why? Link was of no importance. Was it as simple as not wanting to kill? No, that was naive. Perhaps…

Was it because they didn’t know who Link was?

He glanced down at his clothes. They weren’t an actual uniform, and he’d dressed to match their intent to walk around the capital. Sitting between Allen and Kanda, Link mused that he very well looked more important than he was.

Meeting Kanda’s steely blue glare, Link thought of what he meant to Allen, of what Link had with Allen, of, ultimately, what Allen would want.

_Both of you, safe and sound, back home._

“I swear I’ll return you safe and sound, your highness.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> nea_chi | twitter  
> nea-writes | tumblr
> 
> Regency aus are great but they are one pain in the ass to write.


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